


could it be another change

by voxious



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, School Dances, Slow Dancing, little bit of love confessing!, no pennywise and no death, they're all lgbt try and stop me, they're young and sweet and nervous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12887643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxious/pseuds/voxious
Summary: Bill's first instinct after turning around is to flee. His hands shake minutely and he can feel his throat closing. But Then.But Then he’s already in front of Stan. And he doesn’t know why he was nervous at all.





	could it be another change

**Author's Note:**

> They’re 18. Also, there’s some side reddie and benverly in this because that's who I am. Enjoy.

“He’s been waiting all night.” **  
**

“Hm.” Bill nods, looking over his punch at the boy in the corner.  _His_  boy in the corner. After a second of sipping he chokes at the bitter taste of Hawaiian punch mixed with alcohol.  “Nice one, B-Bev.”

“Wasn’t me this time.” She shrugs, downing the rest of her cup before letting her eyes wander across the dance floor to Richie, where he sways to a slightly upbeat song with his hands holding Eddie’s waist. The soft blue and yellow lights reflect off of Richie’s glasses and he can’t see it, but Bill assumes his eyes are closed. They look like real-live human representations of bliss. It twists Bills insides in a good way.

“Th-They look happy,” Bill announces. It’s like calling water wet. His mind wanders to Stan again.

“You could be too you know.” Beverly sighs, walking into Bill’s line of vision. It had shifted from Eddie’s pink bowtie to her neckline. It shimmers with red sequins that bring out the green in her eyes. Ben lingers behind, matching burgundy tux looking black under the lights. “He’s wanted you forever, Bill. You know that.”

He does know. He’s known since they were 13 when they would exchange glances across tables and rooms and hold hands over sleeping bags in the dark.

He nods again, managing a half smile for one of his best friends. A girl that’s kept his feet on the ground for the better part of 5 years. “I know B-Bev.”

“Then go get him. I love you. Remember what we practiced!” A slow song starts and her voice grows quieter as Ben finally drags her onto the dance floor.

“L-Love you t-too.” Bill, replied to empty air.

His first instinct after turning around is to flee. His hands shake minutely and he can feel his throat closing. But Then.

But Then he’s already in front of Stan. And he doesn’t know why he was nervous at all.

“You l-look m-miserable.” Bill pretends to observe, pulling up a metal folding chair to sit next to his friend.

“Is it that noticeable?” Stan asks. He puts on a half smile to match the other’s, blue suit pressed perfectly and glowing bluer under the lights. The tips of his fingers toy with metallic pieces of confetti thrown around the table.

“Maybe a l-little.” Bill laughs inside the bubble they seem to always reside in when they’re together. His gaze travels above Stan’s head, to the wall, where he reads the bright green “PROM ‘94” banner and remembers how much time he’s wasting. He thinks back to what he and Bev had practiced in the weeks leading up to the big night.

_“You can do it.” Beverly sat on her knees, holding bills wrists as he struggled, but finally, spit out the words he’d wanted to get right—_

“Dance with me?”

Stan stares in disbelief for one second. Then two. Before the spell breaks and he presses dark pink lips together in a small grin. “Sure.”

Bill’s leather shoes stick to the dance floor, and he trips over one of many balloons scattered around the gymnasium, but with Stan’s hand in his, he only blushes forever.

They dance like Eddie and Richie, Ben and Beverly, and Mike and his date, a small girl with no name, short hair, and a big smile. They dance close together, Bill’s hands resting on Stan’s waist comfortably. After a minute on swaying Stan rests his forehead against Bill’s shoulder, taking advantage of their contrasted heights. The song that plays drones soft and boring but Bill has a feeling he’ll remember it for his entire life.

“You’re shaking,” Stan whispers after what seems like an eternity. He doesn’t look up from the shiny black of Bill’s jacket covered shoulder but Bill can feel him. Not as strongly as his pulse, or his fear, but he can feel him.

“I-I,” Bill shakes harder at the realization and pulls Stan closer without finishing, as the song changes to something a little more spastic.

“You wanna go somewhere?”  Stan asks, Already pulling away to give Bill space. Ringlets start to pop from where hair gel had constrained them on Stan’s head. Bill’s heart races faster.

“My c-car’s parked ah-out back.”

The rest of the losers don’t notice as they slip out.

“I’m n-not having a p-p-panic attack, Stanley.” Bill sighs, feeling out of place in the driver’s seat of his own filthy car.

“Then why are you shaking so much?” Stan asks for the fourth time. He reaches over to grab one of Bill’s hands, maybe to stop the shaking, maybe to make himself feel better.

Bill flinches, breaking Stan’s heart.

“I’m f-fine. I mean it.” Bill tries to reassure but his gaze rests down somewhere impossibly below them. Somewhere that doesn’t matter.

Stan doesn’t waver.

Instead, he takes Bill’s face in both hands, forcing his eyes upward, and stilling his reeling mind. “Bill.”

“I’m s-scared, Stan.” He whispers when their eyes lock.

“Why are you scared?” Stan says it less like a question, more like he already knows, but will entertain an answer. Stan says it like  _humor me_.

_I love you._ “I don’t know.”  _I don’t know what to do._  “D-Do you want me to t-take you h—”

Stan cuts him off by pressing their lips together.

Bill’s are still shaking but they cease and move against Stan’s quickly, and pink shows through the slight tan the almost-summer sun had brought to Stan’s cheeks.

The kiss is soft and slow and lasts a lifetime before one turns into two. Then three. The fourth time grows rougher and languid, and Bill remembers who he is.

“You’re ss—“ Bill starts, then stops, when Stan shushes him and pushes him away before climbing between the seats to the back.

Bill meets him there from the outside.Shedding his jacket and meeting their lips again, they sigh and touches grow rough, breathing grows heavy, and the air hangs sticky with tension having waited years to break.

“Say you love me.” Stan exhales softly. It’s both demanding and reluctant simultaneously, through small shifts of hips and sputtering breaths and gasps and clammy grabbing hands against shoulder blades. The voice that leaves his body is one of a little boy. The same one that would’ve killed to make out with Bill Denbrough in the back of a car, years ago. “I know you do.”

Bill exhales and doesn’t stutter once because he’s seen this confession coming since he was a kid. “I love you.”  
  
“Say it again,” Stan begs, fingers going wild, smoothing over Bill’s cheeks and playing with the hair at the nape of Bill’s neck. Their movements simmer to playful and neither of the boys panic. The smile that appears on Stan’s face brightens the small space. “Say it Again.”  
  
“I love you,” Bill gasps, breathing him in. “I love you,” Bill laughs like he’d instead screamed _E_ _ureka_. “I love you.“

“I love you too,” Stan replies against Bill’s neck, his smile staining the skin there. “I have forever.”


End file.
